


accidental

by Dresupi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Cuddling, Angst with a Happy Ending, Co-workers, Confessions, Emotional Affair, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, Feels, Infidelity, Kissing, Light Angst, Loveless Marriage, Minor Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Not Canon Compliant, Not Epilogue Compliant, Swearing, That turns into - Freeform, They're going to be divorced soon, but that doesn't make up for what they're doing now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 16:24:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16308626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/pseuds/Dresupi
Summary: “What would people say, Draco?”He shrugged in overly exaggerated bewilderment. “Who cares, Hermione?”“Don’t you, though? If we divorced our spouses, started shacking up in your town home, all the while running a law practice together? What would people say?”His teeth dragged over his bottom lip. “They’d say it’s about bloody time.”





	accidental

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hermione616](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hermione616/gifts).



> A prompt fill that got out of hand.
> 
> All Hermione616 asked for was accidental cuddling, and then my hand slipped and angst and infidelity and all this happened. Also, it's been two years and change since she left me the prompt, so there's that as well.
> 
> Oh well. Enjoy.

Hermione’s eyes fluttered open, a groan already breaking the silence in room as she lifted her head from the surface where it had been lying. Her neck twinged in pain, stiff from the awkward angle, and as her eyes adjusted to the room, she suddenly realized what had happened.

The dark wood paneling of her office was awash in the golden glow of the morning sun, streaming in through the window. Rolls of parchment were strewn across her lap and the coffee table in front of her.

The case! The client! She must have fallen asleep in the office again.

The obvious nature of the thought made her grimace and as she began to push up from the sofa, another, just as another obvious thought occurred to her.

She hadn’t been alone last night.

In fact, she’d been working the case with another barrister. One who shared the office with her. One who had helpfully agreed to take a backseat and let her head up the legal team for the poor soul being made an example of in front of the Ministry and all of Wizarding London.

One who was decidedly curled up beside her and allowing her to use him as a pillow.

“Draco!” she gasped, pushing far, far away from the man who up until the night before, had been merely a colleague.

But he was still a colleague, wasn’t he? He was. Just a colleague. Just a law partner. That’s all.

That wasn’t all, and she bloody well knew it. Draco hadn’t been ‘just a colleague’ for a while. One’s marriage didn’t disintegrate due to an acquaintance who was ‘just a colleague’.

“Morning, Granger… sleep well?” he asked, yawning loudly and stretching his arms.  He sat up, the very picture of nonchalance as he whisked all the parchments away and into their proper storage area. As well he should be. The man had no shame, felt no guilt for their obvious flirtations. On the contrary, Draco revelled in them.

“I… I…” she stammered, unable to form a coherent thought in her head, let alone speak one aloud.

“I was worried, you know.  The angle in which your head was laying... “ He reached over, his fingers cool against her neck and shoulder. “Couldn’t have been comfortable.”

“I’m… I’m fine,” she assured him, even though the mere thought of turning her head to the left was excruciating.

“You’re certain? A massage would set that right straight away.”

“A massage?” she asked, rising abruptly to her feet as she staggered barefoot towards her desk. “I’m not in need of anything more from you, thanks.”

He snorted. “Don’t be daft, I wouldn’t be the one giving you the massage, there’s a masseuse on Diagon Alley. Owes me a favor. I could call in an emergency appointment for you.  Wouldn’t want you standing there in the courtroom today, acting like you’ve got a broomstick shoved up your arse. That wouldn’t connect with the jurors, you know.”

Hermione blinked, face flushing bright red.

“Look, Granger. It doesn’t have to be a big deal, so long as you don’t make it a big deal. I told you how I felt about you. And I  _ know _ how you feel about me.”

“It doesn’t matter how you feel, or how I feel! You’re  _ married _ , Draco…” she hissed. “What would Astoria say?”

“If there was anything to tell, she’d fucking applaud you. And me as well, if I’m being honest,” he said with a derisive laugh. “What about you, Granger? What would your Mr. Weasley say if he knew you’d fallen asleep in my arms last night?”

“I fell asleep because of work. Not because you were such a welcoming bedfellow…”

To be fair, even with hers and Ron’s marriage in a shambles and two signatures away from over, she didn’t think he’d like it very much at all if she was anywhere near Draco’s arms. It had been a point of contention. The catalyst in the breakdown of their marital arrangement. When she and Draco had entered into practice together. Ron had always been jealous. But it had turned bitter when she’d signed on to partner up with Malfoy.

“And I think you know Ron well enough to know he wouldn’t say a word. Not until he’d fed you his fist for lunch, anyway.” She sniffed and leaned back against her desk.

Draco hummed, chuckling quietly as he joined her, placing his hand scant centimeters from her own. He was standing far too close for colleagues. Too close for just friends. They really had transcended all other monikers, hadn’t they? 

His pinky moved over to stroke against hers. It sent shivers up her spine, tingling nerves she’d thought for certain had died long ago. “He never could simply use his words, could he?” he asked.

“There’s something to be said of broken noses for proving points, though,” she teased.

He shrugged, shifting a bit closer.“I don’t fancy a broken nose, but if I end up with one, I’d say it was worth it.” Pushing away from the desk, he crossed over to where his coat was hung on the hook. “I’ll give my masseuse-friend a ring. It’s about seven now, can you make it there by eight?”

Hermione frowned a little before nodding, regretting the action almost immediately as the tension in her neck doubled down. “Is there an address?” 

“It’s the only place for massage on Diagon Alley, would you like me to draw you a map, Granger?” he teased.

“If you think it would help…”

He peered at her for a long moment, his thoughts hidden in those grey eyes of his. “Why don’t you come with me, we can both get them, go grab a nosh and be back in time for tea with sorry old what’s-his-name?”

“Rooksgarden,” Hermione corrected. “He’s our client. And his name is Rooksgarden.”

“I  _ know _ ,” he said, waiting for her to slip on her shoes and join him at the door. “Sorry-old-Rooksgarden doesn’t have the same ring to it, and I’m making at attempt at witty repartee.”

She allowed him to help her into her coat, even going so far as to accept his arm when they stepped out onto the sidewalk. “You’d really think a broken nose from my ex-husband would be worth it?”

Draco laughed. “ _ That’s _ what you’re focusing on?”

“Well, of course,” she replied. “Someone says a night spent in an awkwardly uncomfortable embrace with you on the couch is worth a bloody broken nose, you take stock of the situation.”

“You’re the only one with a stiff neck,” he stated.

“Yes. And?”

“So perhaps you’re the only one who thought our embrace to be awkward and uncomfortable?”

“You’re saying you didn’t?”

He shook his head. “No, it was the best night’s sleep I’ve had in weeks.”

“What is  _ that _ supposed to mean?” she asked, frowning and stopping to look up at him. He was smug in his rightness, and she wasn’t about to let that fly.

“I think it’s very clear what that means. I’m comfortable with you, and the thought of intimacy with you, and you’re still hung up on the fact that you’re married.”

“And  _ you’re _ married.”

“In name only, Granger. It’s a bloody society marriage. I couldn’t tell you what my wife looks like naked, because I don’t know. I  _ do _ know that I’ll be free to divorce her in three months. And that’s what I plan on doing.”

“But you’re still  _ married  _ now.”

“And so are you, now that we’re obsessing over minutiae that make no bloody difference!”

“Ron and I are separated,” she argued. “It’s two signatures away from being over.”

Draco chuckled. “Two signatures? Why not make it one?”

“What?”

“You’re just as guilty as I am. You’re not signing those divorce papers any more than he is. Sign them, admit you failed at a marriage straight from school, spend the night with me in my town home and be done with it.”

“Such romantic overtures, Malfoy, I don’t know what I’ll ever do…” she chided.

He reached for her hand, bringing it up to his lips. “If I provided the romantic overtures I wished to, you’d be scandalized.”

“Would not.”

He kissed her fingers, moving up the back of her hand to her knuckles.  HIs lips lingered on her skin after each kiss, culminating with one against her palm that left her knees weak as he slowly returned her hand to the crook of his elbow. “Oh yes, I believe you would.”

“What would people say, Draco?”

He shrugged in overly exaggerated bewilderment. “Who the fuck cares, Hermione?”

“Don’t you, though? If we divorced our spouses, started shacking up in your town home, all the while running a law practice? What would people say?”

His teeth dragged over his bottom lip. “They’d say it’s about bloody time.”

Hermione watched his teeth, her own lips trembling with the desire to snog him within an inch of his life. There was a reason he was always so smug and self-righteous. He was right.

She squared her jaw and dropped her hand from his arm.  She turned back towards the office, her intentions never more clear in her mind.

“Where are you going?” he called after her, sounding quite panicky, now that she thought about it.

“You’ll see,” she replied, hearing him run up the steps to the door, remaining there as she rummaged through her desk drawer.  She found the papers, scribbling her name upon the lines where it was needed, folding the lot back up and sealing them before walking over to where her owl was perched in the window.

She tied it to her foot, offering her a snack before seeing her off.

When she turned around, Draco was right behind her, almost flush to her front. 

She sighed heavily. “Marriage straight out of school is bollocks, and I failed at it.”

His eyes narrowed slightly as he tried to read her. “You signed them?”

“I signed them.”

He licked his lips, trying and failing to hide the grin that spread across them. He lowered his mouth to hers, the kiss a long time coming, she gasped and parted her lips for him. He moaned softly into her mouth, wrapping both arms around her middle. “Granger, you don’t often surprise me.”

She hummed and broke off the kiss. “Yes, well. I suppose there’s a first time for everything. Now that  _ that’s _ sorted, I believe you said something about a masseuse? Because as enjoyable as it is to finally kiss you, my neck is still in a state.”

“I did indeed,” he said, offering her his arm again. His smile was infectious, and it was likely obvious to anyone who saw them that the nature of their relationship was decidedly more than platonic, but Hermione realized for the first time that she didn’t really care.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me some sugar if you want! xoxo!


End file.
